《Bad Company》 Chapter 1: Nathaniel Nathaniel stumbled as the tip of his right boot caught onto a rock, trying to maintain his balanceby scrabbling his arms and legs madly against the dirt for a moment . He was going to be late! Feet pumping with speed fueled by urgency, the boy sprinted down an alleyway filled haphazardly with towering stacks of wooden empty crates, a by-product of the morning market. Gagging at the taste of decay in the air from leftover produce rotting in the heat, he panted with his teeth clenched, not wanting to get breathe in any flies into his mouth. Once bitten, twice shy. Experience has taught him that choking on a fly was both disgusting and painful. Still, taking the shortcut was worth it, literally cutting down his journey by half. Nathaniel had found it by sheer luck the last time he ran away from the street kids that hung out around the far side of the marketplace. He knew they picked on him because they assumed he was an easy target as he was both smaller and younger than they were, but he always gave as good as he got or better, choosing only to escape when they started ganging up on him. It was a fortunate thing that none of them knew about the alleyway that led up to the small moat ringing the walls of the orphanage, given how secluded it was. Getting trapped between the bullies and the water would have been painful at the very least, given just how deep the water ran. Grimacing at the thought, Nathaniel leaped over the moat with his hands out before him. Fingers catching on to the edge of the low wall, he bent his legs to absorb the shock as his feet came into contact with it. Hanging off his grip on the ledge, he then shuffled his feet upwards until his knees came up tight to his chest, bouncing for a moment to gather momentum before kicking off to pull himself up and over, clearing the top with ease born of experience. Jumping down, the boy entered into the backyard of the orphanage proper, landing into a four-point crouch which he smoothly chained into a shoulder roll to further bleed off the impact of his landing. Nathaniel dusted his hands off, grinning. Made it! ¡°NATHANIEL! WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU ABOUT CLIMBING OVER THE WALLS?¡± Crud. Busted by the matron. Wincing, the boy looked up to see Matron Abby striding towards him, her brows furrowed in anger. A strict, middle-aged woman with brown hair that was slightly graying at the temples, she was the caretaker with the most seniority amongst all the matrons that ran the orphanage. Unlike her much younger colleagues, Matron Abby firmly believed in the notion that sparing the rod would spoil the child, liberally giving away strokes from her dreaded switch as punishment whenever she caught anyone misbehaving. Nathaniel was an often victim, and it was always worse when she made him cut the very switch that she would whip him with. Grabbing him by the ear and twisting it, Matron Abby raised her hand, causing Nathaniel to rise up on his toes and yelp. Fuming, she took in the sight of him all scruffy, taking special note of his bloodied knuckles. Taking her gaze further upwards, her eyes softened as she spotted Nathaniel¡¯s split lower lip. Tenderly, she then brushed across it with her thumb, the boy letting out an involuntary squawk of pain as she made contact with the sensitive surface of his injury. Letting go of him, Matron Abby shut her eyes for a moment, pinching the bridge of her nose. She blew out through her pursed lips, the forced passage of breath audible to his ears. ¡°Nathaniel, have you been scrapping with the boys from round the market again?¡± Scuffing the heel of his boot against the grass with his hands in his trousers, Nathaniel scowled. ¡°...wasn¡¯t my fault this time. They were waiting for me after I came out from the bakery.¡± Sighing, Matron Abby bent down a little to take Nathaniel''s face in her hands. Turning his head side to side to check for any more injuries, she deemed it acceptable, kissing the top of his hair and ruffling it fondly as she stood back up. ¡°Go wash up and change into a fresh set of clothes, alright? Especially your face and your hands. I¡¯ll get some ointment over your knuckles and bandage them once you¡¯re done. Now, Matron Agatha has already informed me that your prospective parents are already here, waiting on you in my office. I want you looking your best for them, understand?¡± Straightening up, the matron smoothed out her skirt. ¡°And shush, no back talk from you now!¡± She added, giving him a stern look as Nathaniel opened his mouth to protest. Matron Abby then started shooing him towards the direction of the main building. Muttering mutinously under his breath and glowering sulkily, the boy shuffled off towards the showers while gingerly licking at the split on his lower lip. Ouch, this bloody stings! Must be from when I got blindsided by the fruit seller¡¯s son, that fat git. I¡¯ll get him next time.This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. ¡°And wash your hair! You smell!¡± Nathaniel swore.
¡°Ten of Hearts.¡± ¡°Ten of Spades.¡± ¡°Jack of Hearts.¡± ¡°Two of Clubs.¡± Several groans were heard. ¡°Are you serious? That¡¯s sixteen points above my card!¡± ¡°He always does this! Such a wanker.¡± ¡°Pass.¡± ¡°Me too.¡± ¡°Gah. Me three.¡± ¡°Suckers. Pair of Fours, then.¡± ¡°Damn, should have kept my Two of Hearts just now instead of blowing it off. Pass.¡± ¡°Pair of Sixes. I¡¯m out of pairs. ¡± ¡°Two Kings.¡± ¡°That the largest pair you could field?¡± ¡°What¡¯s it to you? Either play a hand or pass! I don¡¯t believe you¡¯ve got a trick up your sleeves every time.¡± ¡°Suit yourself, then. Here, eat this Pair of Aces. Since all the Twos are out and the rest of you guys have any pairs larger than mine¡­ Straight, Three to Seven. Yes! Pay up, fools!¡± ¡°Aya, you bastard!¡± Saintly rocked back on his hunches, smug. Winning the last four games in a row should have earned him enough to cover last night¡¯s tavern tab, if he wasn¡¯t mistaken. Snickering, the marauder gathered the loose cards his companions tossed onto the stool they were using as a card table. Shuffling the cards slowly, his grin widened even more as he spied Robin, Rum and Weaver rummage through their money bags while their faces wore various levels of disgust. ¡°Care for another round, lady and gentlemen?¡± Saintly asked gaily. ¡°Nah, not going to let you cheat me of what¡¯s left in my purse. I lost enough as it is,¡± Rum grumbled, frowning at him suspiciously. ¡°Even if I can¡¯t prove it.¡± Weaver¡¯s face had an interesting expression on it. If Saintly ever had to name it, it would have been two parts indignant, one part mystified and one part heavily constipated. Unsurprisingly, it wasn¡¯t a good look on the priest. ¡°What!? And we let him deal anyway? Gods, Rum, why didn¡¯t you tell me?¡± Loosening his sleeves and straightening both his elbows with his fingers splayed, Saintly then displayed his empty sleeves to his fellow gamblers crouching around the stool with him. Shuffling the deck in full view after picking it up, he then did a dizzying display of cutting and riffling the cards. Throwing his hands out with a flourish, the marauder dealt eight cards, facing them up in a circle following the circumference of the stool. Each card was a court card, neatly arranged in ascending order starting from the Queen of Diamonds. He couldn¡¯t keep in a smirk after that display of pure cardistry. Robin flipped a middle finger at him. ¡°Because like Rum said, no one could ever prove that he¡¯s actually a dirty, cheating card shark.I once saw him pull that exact same trick with a deck someone else shuffled for him,¡± The ranger blew his fringe away from his face explosively. ¡°And it was his turn to deal anyway.¡± ¡°Lil¡¯ old me, a card shark? Why, I would never!¡± Saintly blinked twice, both his hands up in front of him. A perfect picture of wide-eyed innocence, or so he thought. No one actually bothered telling him that a shit-eating grin would totally destroy the image he was trying to portray. Oh, how he loved it that his Company tag was an ironic one. Two knocks rang out on wood suddenly, the sound dulled by how thick the material was. Every head in the room immediately snapped towards the general direction it came from, tensing, including one that was napping in a corner just a while ago. That was when the doors to the orphanage office swung open. ¡°... Mister and Missus Black?¡±
Nathaniel winced in pain, looking away to the side as Matron Abby put on the finishing touches on the bandages wrapping around both his hands. It didn¡¯t hurt that bad before he took a shower, but the throbbing had spiked into a burning sensation the moment his skinned knuckles came into contact with hot water from the orphanage¡¯s showers. Standing up, she dusted her knees and apron off before combing a hand through the boy¡¯s brunette locks, brushing his fringe out of his face with a thumb. ¡°Now, none of that potty mouth of yours when meeting the Blacks, you hear me? They¡¯re already here, waiting in my office. Nothing we can do about that lip except maybe applying some salt water to it, but I¡¯ll do it for you after they leave. No point making it hurt during the meeting.¡± ¡°Hey, and chin up now,¡± Matron Abby chided, putting a finger under his chin and pushing it up. ¡°Don¡¯t look so glum, okay? I know that you¡¯re afraid that you might get passed up for someone else again, but the letter said they¡¯re specifically looking for a twelve year-old child who has a good head for his subjects in school and reasonably boisterous. Now, doesn¡¯t that sound just like you?¡± Smiling, she held out her hand towards Nathaniel. ¡°We¡¯ll go in together, okay?¡± Nathaniel took in the sight of the matron¡¯s weathered hand before slipping his own almost shyly into it. Her hand felt warm and safe and caring, and it will still be even if the Blacks didn¡¯t want him. Matron Abby has always treated the orphans like her own children, and it at that very moment that he knew that she would always have a special place in his heart, and vice versa. The boy smiled at the matron warmly. Tugging on her hand, he pulled her towards the door of her office, the sting of the bandage pulling against his knuckles all but ignored. ¡°Let''s go then! They¡¯ve been waiting for long enough already!¡± Matron Abby laughed as she let herself get pulled along. ¡°Ready?¡± She asked, knuckles raised against the wooden double doors that separated them from the office. Taking a deep breath, Nathaniel nodded. The matron took a deep breath herself too, before rapping smartly twice and pushing them open. ¡°... Mister and Missus Black?¡± Pulling the boy in after her, she walked into her office and found themselves face-to-face with five black-clad strangers, all wielding steel and wand against them. Chapter 2: Surprise Bloody hell! This was not what Nathaniel expected to see when he was told that there was a couple who were were interested in adopting him. The situation was even beyond the range of his wildest fantasies, which were actually remarkably tame for a boy his age. Disappointment did not discriminate between whom it humbled, after all, but even he was pretty sure nobody would have anticipated this. The difference between what he had expected and what he saw was so jarring that it almost hurt. Instead of coming into a familiar office to meet his potentially new family, the matron and him had apparently walked into some sort of an ambush. Each one of their ambushers were clad uniformly in black, the colour turning matte as a result of long use and sun bleach. Two of them were holding obvious wands in a half-crouch, while a man was clad in an eclectic mix of leathers and armour behind them. He was posed in a similar position, his bow drawn with an arrow at the ready. But the one who caught the most of Nathaniel¡¯s attention was the one closest to the doors. Dressed in a similar fashion to the archer, he wore the addition of an double-breasted admiral¡¯s coat, albeit one that had pauldrons instead of the epaulettes usually seen on the shoulders on similar garments. Standing relaxed in a fighter¡¯s stance with twin cutlasses at the ready, the wind from a nearby window stirred his neatly cropped brown hair to expose a jagged pink scar. Running vertically downwards, the scar drew a line from the middle of his left eyebrow to just a little under the eye, painting him with a callous, hard-bitten look. Everything about him promised violence, and he seemed just like the type of man to enjoy it. Grasping the situation in a heartbeat, Nathaniel let out a huge yell, pulling Matron Abby backwards as she froze. Spying a tarnished letter opener on top of a low cupboard, he then snatched it up with his other hand, pointing it at the man with the scarred eye. Stop trembling, hand! Saintly blinked twice before he understood what he was looking at. ¡°Oh, shit. Stand down, guys. It¡¯s just the sister and the kid.¡± Grinning sheepishly, the marauder quickly sheathed his weapons with a flourish. ¡°Sorry about that, Sister. We¡¯re a bit jumpy when we¡¯re surprised.¡± Placing a hand on her chest, Matron Abby took in quick breaths to calm herself down. Her gaze roved all over those in the process of self-consciously holstering their weapons, sharpening when she noticed the playing cards lying scattered on a stool. ¡°You were gambling in my orphanage?¡± she hissed, taking a step forward. Her tone made it plain that she saw gambling as an activity on the same level as kicking puppies. ¡°There are children present!¡± Saintly promptly snapped up his own money bag off the ground, smoothly stepping into the matron¡¯s point of view with a hand flapping behind him. ¡°Just passing the time with a little arithmetic game, that¡¯s all! Nothing that would corrupt the younglings, I swear!¡± Those idiots better be keeping the cards now, damn it. A large hand, fully enclosed in a gauntlet, wrapped itself over the fist that Nathaniel was using to hold the letter opener. ¡°You can put it down now, kid. We¡¯re friendly, and this toothpick wouldn¡¯t hurt nobody wearing black here.¡± His voice was strong , a baritone deep and rich. The boy jerked to the side, surprised. Turning around, his eyes widened as he saw that the hand belonged to a previously unseen man dressed in full plate. He didn¡¯t even hear him move! Yanking his hand out, Nathaniel dropped the knife like a hot potato before rushing to hide behind the matron¡¯s skirt, angling his body so that he could keep all of the strangers in view. ¡°Shit, Dice.¡± Weaver slapped the man on the arm. ¡°I think you spooked him.¡± Wearing a mellow smile, Weaver slowly went down on a knee in front of the child, showing him that her hands were empty. ¡°Hey,¡± the priest said softly, holding out a hand. ¡°I¡¯m Weaver. What¡¯s your name?¡± Robin snorted. ¡°Kid¡¯s not that short, Weaver.¡± ¡°Shut up, Robin. I¡¯m trying to make friends with him here.¡± Weaver shot back at him, though without any heat. ¡°Alright, everyone stop!¡± snapped Matron Abby. She then brought a hand up to her temples, rubbing them while she closed her eyes. ¡°Look, can anybody give me an explanation?¡±
¡°Care to explain as to what the five of you are doing here?¡± The matron sank down on her chair, which she dragged out from behind her desk. Finally, a chance to sit after a hectic half a day. The five very well-armed strangers were left standing as there were not enough stools for all of them. Nathaniel was standing on her left, peering curious at them now that the fear he experienced earlier was gone. Their armour was fascinating! That¡¯s a really sweet looking coat. Must have cost him loads, maybe he stole it? Saintly chuckled at the boy¡¯s blatant interest. ¡°Wanna try it, kid?¡± ¡°Absolutely not¡ª¡± Nathaniel let out a squeal of delight before Matron Abby could refuse his offer, squeezing out from behind the desk. Shrugging it off, the marauder held his coat out by the back of the shoulders, letting the child slip his hands into his sleeves. Nathaniel was practically swimming in it, the sleeves extending way past his hands. Taking care not to scratch the boy with his gauntlets, Saintly released his coat fully, laughing as the kid stumbled at the weight of it. ¡°It¡¯s so heavy!¡± ¡°Has to be, kid. It¡¯s rip-proof, stab-proof, fire-proof and as many things you can think of. But do you know something that makes it worth being that heavy?¡± Saintly was aware that he had the full attention of both the boy and the matron, though for very different reasons. Weaver had to bite the inside of her cheek as Nathania finally got his hands past the cuffs. That pout was adorable! ¡°Why?¡± Saintly leant in closer. ¡°Because all the ladies love it.¡± he confided in a stage whisper, winking conspiratorially before his head jerked forward abruptly. ¡°Ow!¡± ¡°Ignore the idiot.¡± Rum intoned, eyeballing Saintly before crossing his arms again. ¡°Firstly, Sister, we¡¯ll like to apologise for just now. Like Saintly explained, we get a bit jumpy when we get surprised. Let me introduce¡ª,¡± Matron Abby held up a hand. ¡°Matron, not Sister. This is an imperial orphanage, not one sponsored by any of the churches.¡± ¡°Ah, yes, of course. I apologise,¡± Rum dipped his head a little. ¡°As I was saying before, I¡¯m Rum. The archer is Robin.¡± Robin flopped his hand up and down. ¡°This big lump here with all the armour is Dice.¡± Dice smiled cheerfully at the matron. ¡°The lady is Weaver, she¡¯s our team leader.¡± The priest waved distractedly, her attention on Nathaniel. ¡°And lastly, this buffoon is called Saintly.¡± The marauder didn¡¯t even notice his name being called, engrossed as he was in showing the boy what was in the various compartments of his coat. Taking a long breath, Rum gestured circularly to the rest of his teammates. ¡°And we¡¯re the Blacks, actually. We¡¯re the ones that requested to see the kid.¡±If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. That perked Nathaniel¡¯s attention. ¡°What? Really?¡± Robin nodded. ¡°Yup. That¡¯s right, kid. We¡¯re here for you, but only if you want to come with us.¡± ¡°This is ridiculous! Is this some sort of elaborate prank? I thank you to not waste both the boy¡¯s time and mine!¡± The matron flared her nostrils, her infamous temper starting to show. ¡°No games, Madam,¡± Dice shook his head, glancing at Nathaniel before looking back at her. ¡°We¡¯re really here to adopt him.¡± ¡°All of you? Are you all even related to each other?¡± Matron Abby glared. Weaver hummed, her brow furrowed in thought. ¡°You can say¡­ that we¡¯re siblings, I guess.¡± ¡°Sibling? All of you look nothing alike!¡± Nathaniel tilted his head to the side, perplexed. ¡°Look, Matron¡­¡± Robin looked at Matron Abby questioningly. The matron sighed, turning her head towards Robin. ¡°Abby. Matron Abby. I¡¯m the senior matron of the orphanage.¡± Robin nodded once in acknowledgement. ¡°Matron Abby, let me explain. All of us here,¡± ¡ªHe waved his hand at the rest¡ª ¡°Are part of an organisation looking to adopt children. Our purpose is to train and educate them into¡­ adventurers, so as to speak, which they then work for us when they grow into their majority.¡± ¡°Really? Adventurers? That¡¯s so cool!¡± Nathaniel gushed. Eyes sparkling, he looked at the senior matron. ¡°They¡¯re adventurers!¡± ¡°What? I¡¯ve never heard of something like this,¡± Matron Abby glared accusingly. ¡°If what you say is true, then why are you only looking for children that are specifically twelve year old? ¡°That¡¯s because our organisation wants them to have at least four years of ¡®school¡¯¡±¡ªSaintly had both his hands up in finger quotes¡ª ¡°Before they start going out to earn their keep. Age of majority and all that. Nothing dangerous, just small quests around where we¡¯re located.¡± ¡°And, pray tell, the name of your ¡®organisation¡¯?¡± The matron finger-quoted back. ¡°Why, can¡¯t you tell? Debonair men¡± ¡ªSaintly paused as Weaver gave him a pointed look¡ª¡°And gorgeous lady all armoured in black,¡± puffing his chest out, the marauder gestured expansively at himself and then the rest of his team. ¡°We¡¯re the Bad Company!¡± There was a moment of frozen silence before Nathaniel heard the sound of leather smacking on flesh. Turning around, the boy saw that Weaver had her face in one of her hands, muttering darkly. ¡°WHAT?¡± Matron Abby shot to her feet, outraged. ¡°YOU PEOPLE BELONG TO A MERCENARY COMPANY!?¡± Said mercenaries winced collectively. ¡°Um¡­ Well, that¡¯s a yes, Madam. We won¡¯t lie to you. We¡¯re from the Bad Company, and we¡¯re recruiting fresh blood, in a sense,¡± Rum rubbed at the five o¡¯clock shadow on his chin and jaw slowly. ¡°Most of the people who want to join us are just not up to snuff, and a lot of them are pretty much set in their ways. The Commander¡¯s looking to expand the Company. She wants us wants to train up our own adventurers, and we¡¯ve got to start them young if we want them to be great and long-lived at what they do. Now, most parents would never want their children to become adventurers. That¡¯s just common sense, as the job can be very dangerous. Not to mention that adventurers are typically stereotyped as callous, rowdy men that are quick to drink and quick to anger. That¡¯s why the Company is looking to adopt children of that specific age.¡± ¡°You say adventurers, but Matron Abby said that you¡¯re merse¡­ merce-rys?¡± Nathaniel stumbled on his words, unsure of the proper pronunciation. ¡°Mercenaries, love. Now hold still and let me take a look at you.¡± Weaver tipped his chin up, looking at the cut on his lower lip. ¡°What¡¯s the difference then?¡± Nathaniel asked, pouting. Why was she unwrapping his bandages? There was an awkward silence as all of the Bad Company members looked at each other, each of them not wanting to be the one explaining. Weaver sighed. ¡°Before explaining that, would you like me to heal you?¡± ¡°You would?¡± The boy¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°Of course, love. Now hold still again.¡± Nathaniel stiffened as visible green magic washed over him in a wave starting from his feet to the top of his head, startling him. Gasping, he both saw and felt the scrapes on his knuckles turn into flawless pink skin, green sparks lingering over them for a moment before fading. Even the split on his lip was gone, replaced by smooth flesh. ¡°Oh wow.¡± ¡°Bit of a scrapper, aren¡¯t you?¡± Dice had an expression of mild approval on his face as Nathaniel flexed his hands and mouth. ¡°What happened to the other guy?¡± The boy grinned cheekily. ¡°Gave him two black eyes and broke his nose.¡± Matron Abby¡¯s face went pale. ¡°Nathaniel Foundling!¡± ¡°It wasn¡¯t my fault! Robby started it! He and his gang were waiting for me when I left the bakery.¡± Nathaniel argued, frowning. ¡°I already told you when we were in the backyard!¡± Robin snorted. ¡°He¡¯s Company material, alright. He escalates as well as any of us.¡± Laughing, Saintly grabbed the boy around the shoulders in a one-armed hug. ¡°Good lad!¡± He ruffled his hair with the other arm. ¡°Now, the difference between an adventurer and a mercenary, Weaver.¡± Weaver shot him a dirty look. Sighing, she smiled softly at Nathaniel. ¡°Now, love, a mercenary isn¡¯t that much different from an adventurer. In fact, mercenaries do everything an adventurer does. Monster culling, guarding caravans, exploring frontiers¡­ But what adventurers don¡¯t do is to accept requests that involve fighting other people.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t adventurers fight each other often?¡± Nathaniel frowned. ¡°I see it happen at the taverns ¡°What she¡¯s saying is that the Company doesn¡¯t mind getting paid specifically to fight or kill people,¡± Dice shrugged nonchalantly. Noticing the boy¡¯s widening eyes, he snapped his fingers. ¡°Pretty sure public schools teach about the last civil war. Do you know it?¡± Nathaniel scratched his head, trying to pull together fragments of past history lessons. It wasn¡¯t his fault history was boring! ¡°Ummm¡­ that it was the Tyrant of Mornesse who started it?¡± ¡°Yup, that¡¯s the one,¡± the knight nodded. ¡°Do you remember how it ended?¡± Nathaniel tapped a finger under his now unblemished lower lip. ¡°Something about the western allied armies managing to sneak into his camp?¡± ¡°Except that¡¯s where your teachers and textbooks are wrong, kid. It wasn¡¯t the western allied amy,¡± Saintly bopped the boy on the nose. ¡°It was the Bad Company who sacked his camp. For all his creative use of explosives, he sure wasn¡¯t ready for his own command tent to explode.¡± Cackling, the marauder mimed an explosion with his fingers, mouthing boom as he did so. His eyes wide, Nathaniel stared at Saintly with his mouth slightly ajar. ¡°Re¡ª, really?¡± Weaver nodded in affirmation. ¡°The state paid the Company for it. The western allies were already struggling to hold the border of the plains due to thousands of soldiers deserting in the middle of the night. That¡¯s the problem with the conscription of peasants, I guess. They would either rout or run when they sense that the battle isn¡¯t going well.¡± ¡°That wasn¡¯t what the news said when the war was over.¡± Matron Abby frowned. Shrugging her shoulders, Weaver looked at the matron in the eye. ¡°Because the truth¡¯s not as pretty, Matron. The king does not want his people to lose faith in them.¡± The chair creaked as Matron Abby leaned into it heavily. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ a lot to take it.¡± Robin¡¯s smile was entirely sardonic. ¡°It is what it is.¡± ¡°So, what happens now?¡± The matron asked resignedly, steepling her fingers with her hands in her lap. There was a moment¡¯s hesitation as the mercenaries glanced at each other before Weaver spoke up. ¡°We¡¯ll like to adopt Nathaniel as a ward of the Company,¡± the priest smiling at the boy as she mentioned his name. ¡°But only if he is willing to come with us, that is.¡± What? Nathaniel was thrown for a loop. Of course he wanted to be adopted. But on the other hand, it wasn¡¯t a loving family he was joining, but a mercenary guild. The boy opened his mouth to speak, but no words came forth. Rum shifted where he stood, frowning. His feet were going numb. ¡°Does it help if we say that the Company can provide a lot better than if he stays here? We wouldn¡¯t know about other prospective people looking to adopt the kid, of course.¡± Matron Abby raised her eyebrows in challenge. ¡°And how exactly would you know?¡± ¡°Well, Matron,¡± Saintly gave a wry grin. ¡°We were once orphans too.¡± Nathaniel gaped. They were once like me too? ¡°The Company only accepts people who want to join out of their own free will, kid. It¡¯s one of our rules. And besides, we can¡¯t take you out of here without your consent anyway. I mean, we can kidnap you but¡ª¡± ¡°I¡¯ll do it.¡± ¡°¡ªthat kind of defeats the¡ªWait, what?¡± Nathaniel nodded determinedly. ¡°I do it. I want to join your company.¡± Saintly tapped him on the nose, causing him to blink. ¡°The Company, kid.¡± ¡°What? Nathaniel! Do you understand what you¡¯re saying?¡± Matron Abby¡¯s head shot up, her voice cracking in distress. ¡°What if you get hurt? If you go with them, you learn¡ªYou¡¯ll learn to kill people, and that¡¯s wrong!¡± Swallowing, Nathaniel turned towards the matron. ¡°I¡¯ve¡ªI¡¯ve been doing some thinking. I¡¯ll never be an accountant. I¡¯ll never be a merchant, a tutor or a shopkeeper,¡± The boy wringed his hands. ¡°I¡­ was actually going to enroll in the legions when I¡¯m sixteen. Remember that story you used to read to me when I was younger? The one where a girl falls down through a rabbit hole into Wonderland?¡± Matron Abby let out a long-suffering sigh. ¡°Oh, Nathaniel¡­¡± Nathaniel¡¯s voice took on the cadence of a person reciting from memory. ¡°Actually, the best gift you could have given her was¡ª¡± ¡°¡ªthe lifetime of adventures.¡± Everyone turned to look at Saintly. ¡°What? Children books are fun to read too!¡± Rum snorted while Weaver looked at him, smiling exasperatedly. ¡°I¡¯m more surprised that you can read, actually.¡± ¡°Hey!¡± Giggling, Nathaniel walked towards the matron to put a hand on her knee, squatting down as he did so. He looked up at her, grinning broadly. ¡°What¡¯s life without adventure?¡± Matron Abby didn¡¯t reply. Turning around in her seat, she took a sheet of paper from her desk. ¡°Whichever amongst you that is Mister and Missus Black, sign here. Nathaniel, sign here on this corner please.¡± There was a rustling of pen on paper. ¡°Oh, Nathaniel¡­ ¡° Matron Abby ruffled his hair as she wiped at her eyes with a hand surreptitiously. Drawing in a quick breath, her voice became stronger. ¡°From today onwards, your name will be known as Nathaniel Black.¡± Leaning forward, the boy wrapped his arms around the matron, burying his face into her waist. He wasn¡¯t crying, dammit! Releasing the matron, Nathaniel scrubbed at his eyes with his sleeves. Sniffling, he turned to see all five mercenaries smiling at him. ¡°Are we going to go get my things now?¡± Chuckling, Saintly pulled him closer by his shoulder and ruffled his already tousled hair. ¡°That¡¯s right. But first things first, Nathaniel¡­¡± ¡°Welcome to the family, little brother.¡± Chapter 3: Breakfast He woke up to an unfamiliar view. Huh, I don¡¯t remember the ceiling being made of wood. Jerking upright, Nathaniel looked wildly around for a moment, heart jack-hammering away in his chest. This wasn¡¯t his dormitory! Where were his friends and¡ª Oh. The boy grinned as he recalled the events of the previous day, panic fading away slowly. He was in an inn called The Pork & Pie, courtesy of his newly-found family after they left the imperial orphanage. His meagre belongings had hardly even filled half of the leather satchel they gave him, which led to Dice and Saintly reminiscing about their own days as an orphan before they were taken in by the Company. The rest of the night was filled with stories traded over food and ale before turning in, not that Weaver allowed him any alcohol, of course. While the rest of her teammates didn¡¯t mind him having a few sips, the priest was adamant that Nathaniel should be allowed to be a child for a while longer before getting corrupted by ¡®everyone else¡¯. The boy had snorted at that, deciding not to reveal that he has been serving tables in taverns since he was ten, and that ale was nothing compared to the cask of firewater old man Henry kept for special occasions at the Three of Cups. Spotting a basin filled with water with a washcloth neatly folded on the rim, Nathaniel put on his boots before shuffling over to it, not bothering to lace them. Wringing out the washcloth after dipping it in the pleasantly cool water, he dabbed at his face, taking care to wipe the back of his neck like Matron Abby had always told him to. Nathaniel frowned, staring at the rag in his hand. He missed Matron Abby already, but its not like he couldn¡¯t come back to visit when he was old enough, right? Now, to find his family. Where were they? Nathaniel grinned. He had a family now! Hearing faint laughter emanating from downstairs, he grabbed his satchel before heading out of the room. His stomach growled as the scent of eggs and sausages made itself known. Now was a good time for some food, he thought. He was halfway down the stairs before Robin spotted him. ¡°Ah! Speak of the devil. We were just about to wake you for breakfast. Slept well then, Nathaniel?¡± Nathaniel squeezed himself between Dice and a snoozing Rum at the table, smiling at Weaver in greeting. The mage beside him had his forehead on his arms, completely dead to the world. ¡°S¡¯not bad. Was I asleep for long? Where¡¯s Saintly?¡± Rolling a couple of sausages from a greasy pan onto a plate, Weaver jerked her head towards the stairs before spooning a portion of scrambled eggs into it too. Tearing out a chunk of bread from a loaf on the table, she pushed the plate across to Nathaniel, placing it on top of the eggs. ¡°He¡¯s still asleep, that slob. Eat up while it¡¯s still warm, love.¡± ¡°Oh, so the kid gets special attention but not us?¡± Robin complained good-naturedly, ale sloshing in his tankard as he used it to gesture towards Nathaniel. ¡°We¡¯ve known you for like, more than a decade!¡± Dice shushed at him. ¡°Shut up, Robin, or she¡¯ll start talking about the time we tried to use her as payment to bargain for a ride home again.¡± ¡°That¡¯s right, you twits,¡± Weaver fixed the both of them with a baleful glare. ¡°He gets special treatment because he didn¡¯t try to set me up with a date with Oy. As far as I¡¯m concerned, he¡¯s the only decent guy among all of you.¡± Curiosity piqued, Nathaniel looked up halfway through a mouth of sausages. ¡°Sounds interesting. Tell me more?¡± He wasn¡¯t expecting Weaver to flush, however. Eyebrow raised, he looked at Robin for explanation. ¡°Ask me about it some other time, kid. Don¡¯t want to annoy our team leader; I might get extra duties again.¡± The archer said airily. ¡°Anyway, I¡¯ll go wake Saintly up or he¡¯ll complain about being hungry on the way back again.¡± With that, Robin drained his tankard before getting up and bounding up the stairs. Weaver rolled her eyes. ¡°Idiots.¡± ¡°Weaver?¡± ¡°Yes, love?¡± She turned to Nathaniel. ¡°Why did you say that all of you are siblings back when we were still in Matron Abby¡¯s office?¡± ¡°Hmm, I did, didn¡¯t I?¡± The priest mused thoughtfully. ¡°I assume you¡¯ll be wanting me to explain? Nathaniel nodded. Weaver drummed her knuckles on the table. ¡°Do you remember Saintly saying that we¡¯re all orphans?¡± He nodded again, scoffing down another forkful of eggs. ¡°Well, to understand that, you got to know a little of the Company¡¯s history. Company folklore says that we originated from an organised crime syndicate called the Kuro-kumi. The Kuro-kumi, however, was not from our world, but instead came from another world where there were no monsters as we know them. Now, legend states that Creation is connected to a place that acted like a hub between many different worlds, which is in turn connected to each other through interdimensional gates called spirit gates. Ages ago, a group of Kuro-kumi thugs went through a spirit gate by accident during a great world war on their world, getting stranded here in Creation without a way back. To their extreme surprise, they found out that there was a whole country of people who spoke the same language as they did, and had had a culture that was eerily similar even while being fundamentally different at the roots." The priest paused for a moment, giving Nathaniel some time to absorb her story.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road. "The country that they found was Kiku no Kuni, or the Land of Chrysanthemums as we know it. Now, when translated literally into Common, kuro means the colour black, and kumi means either a group, an organisation or a company. Knowing nothing but how to fight, they kept to themselves while learning the ways of our world, eventually forming an adventuring guild under the same name. Realising that Victorians did not understand their name when said in Kiku-go when they came to seek their fortunes here, they renamed their guild the Bad Company to reflect their origins as a criminal enterprise." Weaver took a sip from her cup of tea. ¡°Now, the people who started the Company did not realise that adventuring guilds practiced a clear distinction between mercenary work and adventuring jobs, leading to our classification and reputation as a free company. Till this day, we wear the colour as tribute to the name of our roots; especially us orphans, who also take on Black as our last name. And that is the difference between the Company and other adventuring guilds, Nathaniel. We genuinely treat each other as family, and for us orphans,¡± ¡ªshe tapped the boy for the forehead twice¡ª ¡°It¡¯s the only family we know.¡± Weaver stood up, stretching. ¡°And when it comes down to it, the boys in Team Golf really are my brothers, as annoying as they are. When the time comes, you¡¯ll definitely find your siblings too.¡± What? Nathaniel gaped. Other worlds? Criminal syndicates? Spirit gates? Her answer only made him more confused. He had one more question left, unfortunately. ¡°And¡­ Golf? What¡¯s that?¡± Laughing as she walked up the stairs to her room, Weaver winked. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, you¡¯ll learn about everything soon!¡± Damn it! In his sleep, Rum dreamt of buxom serving girls wearing only aprons and nothing else.
¡°Ready to leave, kid?¡± said Saintly, stuffing his face with the leftovers from the breakfast he missed as Nathaniel looked on with horrified curiosity. How did the man manage to eat that much so quickly and still be able to speak coherently at the same time? Weaver tossed a piece of bread crust at him, disgusted. ¡°Stop talking when you have food in your mouth, Saintly. No one wants to see what your food looks like when you chew it.¡± Nathaniel winced as Saintly waved dismissively at Weaver with a forkful of sausage. The man really had no table manners. Noticing everyone else strapping on their weapon belts and generally checking on the condition of their equipment, the boy found it odd that Rum and Weaver were just sitting down. ¡°Rum, magic is very useful and powerful, right?¡± The mage grunted around a mouthful of ale. ¡°So why do Robin, Saintly and Dice still use weapons? Why don¡¯t they all use wands to cast magic like you and Weaver?¡± Rum belched, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. ¡°Because they¡¯re stupid, that¡¯s why.¡± He then shifted his head to the side suddenly, the fork that Saintly has been using flying past unnervingly close past his ear. Chucking, Dice tossed a bag of coins towards the innkeeper, who caught it with a hand. ¡°It¡¯s not that we can¡¯t use magic, Nathaniel. It¡¯s just we use magic differently from traditional magi, that¡¯s all.¡± Robin looked up from stringing his bow midway, shrugging in agreement. ¡°Not all of us need loud, flashy spells to get things done, Nathaniel.¡± ¡°While that is true,¡± the knight commented mildly, sheathing a long dagger into a holster strapped onto his lower back. ¡°You¡¯ve got to think of magic like cooking, Nathaniel. Everyone can cook, but not everyone cooks the same way. Not everyone cooks well, either. Practice plays a part, but aptitude is probably the most important thing when casting spells. Wands and staffs are made from materials that are inherently magical, and they help the mage focus their spells with a lot less effort.¡± The boy chewed on his bottom lip. That explanation made a lot of sense to him, actually. ¡°Alright, we ate breakfast, did our equipment checks, swept our rooms for anything left behind and the innkeeper is paid. Anything else we forgot?¡± Weaver counted off her fingers. ¡°Nah, we¡¯re good. Let¡¯s go, guys. Sun¡¯s climbing; it should be noon soon. We¡¯ll have to make haste if we want to arrive at Castle Black before dinner.¡± Robin walked out of the entrance of the inn, the rest of the group following. ¡°What¡¯s Castle Black? How are we getting there? By foot? Is Castle Black that close to the city?¡± Nathaniel asked between breaths as he struggled to keep up with Team Golf. Even for a woman her stature, Weaver easily kept pace with the rest of her teammates, only stopping to keep pace with him. It¡¯s not his fault he didn¡¯t have legs as long as them, dammit! ¡°Castle Black is where the Bad Company is based out of, love, about two and a half days of a walk south from here. While the city of Starwynn might be the closest to Castle Black, it is still two and a half days. Thank the Gods we¡¯re not walking though. I¡¯m tired enough as it is.¡± replied Weaver, relief distinguishable in her voice. ¡°We¡¯re not? Then how are we getting¡ª Oof!¡± Nathaniel walked right into Dice, face bouncing off the backplates of his cuirass. Rubbing his forehead, the boy pouted. ¡°What¡¯s wrong? Why are we stopping?¡± Looking around, Nathaniel realised that they were near the outskirts of Starrywn, in the middle of a rather large grassy clearing not too far from the from the The Pork & Pie. Turning his attention back to his companions, he noticed the knight rummaging through a pouch on his back of his left hip, eventually pulling out what looked an object made of a cool, blue glass that seemed to flash in the sunlight. Nathaniel was instantly transfixed, a victim of his magpie syndrome. ¡°Ooooooh, what¡¯s that?¡± ¡°This?¡± Dice chuckled, holding the object up so Nathaniel take could take a closer look. Roughly the size of the first two fingers of an adult put together and about twice as thick, it was a cylindrical object that had a hole carved out near the middle, ending in what looked vaguely like a mouthpiece. Crudely-fashioned and hollow, a string of rawhide was tied around a loop that was fashioned into the other end. Winking gently, the translucent cobalt crystal-like material that it was made of refracted the sunlight, causing it to glow instead of flashing. ¡°Might want to cover your ears, kid.¡± Winking, the knight took a breath and blew hard into it, causing a keening, ear-piercing whistle to blast out into the air around them. Even with his hands clapped over his ears, Nathaniel could still hear it clearly, a hollow, haunting note that echoed unnaturally in their surroundings. That, he decided, definitely had some sort of magic tied into it. There was no physical way a normal whistle could produce a note that ethereal and loud. Twirling it around his fingers, Dice caught the whistle deftly in his hand. ¡°This right here is a dragonglass whistle, kid. Each one produces a unique note that summons the dragon that made it, and it can only be made by a dragon for a rider that the dragon willingly bonds with. Now, with any luck, Barbecue hasn¡¯t eaten one of our griffins, and that they¡¯re smart enough to follow him when he takes off to find us.¡± ¡°What? Griffins? Dragons!?¡± Weaver was pretty sure that human eyes shouldn¡¯t sparkle like that, especially the eyes of a twelve year-old boy. Before any more questions could be fired off by an overly-excited Nathaniel, the group heard a guttural roar split the air, blended with the sound of several shrill screeches. Looking up, they spotted a flock of griffins angled sharply downwards in flight towards them, trailed closely by a majestic blue dragon that was easily twice the size of one. Everyone quickly backed off instinctively, not wanting to get trampled underfoot. While the griffins pumped their wings powerfully to slow their descent enough for a graceful landing, the dragon dropped down into an almost vertical dive with its wings tucked, only flaring them at the last moment before landing in front of Dice with an earth-shaking crash. Cocking its head back, the dragon breathed a cone of icy blue fire into the air above it, pawing at the earth before nuzzling his rider. Large as as he was, the knight was easily dwarfed by his dragon, only coming up to just below its chest as it sat on its haunches. Listening to Nathaniel¡¯s almost impossibly sharp squeal of delight, Weaver nudged at Robin with her elbow. ¡°Well, now we know who he¡¯ll be riding with on the way back, eh?¡± Chapter 4: Castle Black For a place named Castle Black, there¡¯s actually surprisingly little of it, Nathaniel mused, taking in the sight of his new home. In fact, the only black object that he could see was a lonely flag that flew the Company¡¯s standard from a flagpole, a malicious grin painted in white contrasted against a background of pure jet. A singular sprawling structure that was more squat than tall, the castle was built almost entirely of squared blocks of grey stone. While worn smooth by weather and time, occasional bits of it were patched up by a darker, rougher material, contrasting wildly with the original colour. Looking eerily like phantoms, sentinels in black patrolled heavily on the ramparts in the light of dusk, with scones being lit by torch-bearing runners in preparation for the coming night. Aerial patrols mounted on griffins or the occasional dragon ringed a wide circumference around the castle, adding to the appearance that the castle was preparing for battle. Not that it was out of place, given that war was one of the Company¡¯s many services. Their party slowed down to a stop in mid-air as a bell rung thrice. Each note reverberating crisply and clearly, the sound washed over Nathaniel like a cold shower. Idly noting that the bell was likely to be enchanted, the boy twisted around to look at Dice. ¡°Why are we stopping?¡± Dice gestured with his chin. ¡°Security. Look down, Nathaniel. We¡¯re being warned to stop and wait for a greeting party or the guards will attack us.¡± The boy stretched out as far as he dared, craning his neck. And sure enough, Nathaniel saw the guards were all in high alert, with multiple of them aiming either ranged weaponry or what he assumed to be wands and staffs towards their general direction. Frowning, he combed a hand through his locks, brushing away windswept hair from his face. ¡°But we¡¯re more than two hundred metres away! And it¡¯s so windy too.¡± Chuckling, Dice reachedunder Nathaniel¡¯s arm, scratching a spot on Barbecue¡¯s long neck as the dragon grumbled his annoyance at being made to hover. ¡°I¡¯ve seen them hit smaller targets in worse conditions, kid. See all the battlements the castle has?¡± The knight pointed. ¡°We call them crow¡¯s nests, just like on a ship. Our snipers like to camp there when on duty, and they aren¡¯t called snipers for no reason, kid. Nowadays, the castle apparently has multiple rings of magical floating wardstones,courtesy of one of our arch magi when he was bored. I¡¯ve heard rumours that lightning spells can chain off them to cover massive distances when they were still experimental. Don¡¯t wanna risk it, really.¡± ¡°Oh, and here comes the greeting party. That¡¯s a fire dragon; see the colour? Red¡¯s fire, Barbecue here¡¯s an ice dragon. Don¡¯t know if you¡¯ll see a lightning one today, but you can always ask the headmistress¡­¡± Trailing off, Dice raised a hand in greeting to the the two people who came up to meet them. ¡°Is that Team Golf I see? Back from a kidnapping mission, eh? Does the poor boy know what you¡¯re getting him into?¡± Riding on a slightly smaller red dragon but with larger wings, a man in similar armour to Dice returned the gesture lazily, pulling up to a hover right before Barbecue. Wearing an easy grin that was obvious even with his full beard, the fellow knight had long, reddish brown hair tied up in a loose bun, showing off a slight widow¡¯s peak. Pronounced cheekbones and a huge fang hanging from his left ear painted him with a air of youthful rebellion. Coming up behind him, a tawny griffin carried another man dressed in robes with the hood up, slouching into the saddle with the reins in one hand and a long staff across his shoulders in the other. ¡°Hello to you too, you wanker. Nathaniel, this is Outsider and his dragon, Smaug. The mage on the griffin is Messy. Lads, this is Nathaniel.¡± Dice snorted as he saw the boy wave distractedly, engrossed as he was in admiring Smaug. Riding a dragon for the past ten hours or so have not worn off the novelty of them for Nathaniel, it seemed. Messy shook his head amusedly. ¡°Cutting it close to the start of the term, aren¡¯t you? I¡¯ll signal the all-clear, you guys can head down and stable your mounts now.¡± Catching Outsider¡¯s eye, the mage jerked his head to the side. Tapping on the base of Smaug¡¯s neck, Outsider yelled something to the dragon that Nathaniel didn¡¯t quite catch before it spat out three breaths of fire to the side, two short cones and the last one longer in duration. Both raising hands in goodbye, the red dragon rider and the mage drifted off downwards towards one of the taller battlements of the castle. The boy blinked. ¡°Does that mean anything?¡± Dice made a hum of affirmation. ¡°Two breaths means that the other party is not hostile, and the additional long one at the end means we¡¯re Company.¡± ¡°What if they¡¯re aggressive? What signals do they give, then?¡± Laughing, the knight angled Barbecue towards the castle, the rest of the party following suit. ¡°Well, then the greeting party would be attacking them, wouldn¡¯t they?¡±
Nathaniel hid a sudden yawn behind his hand as he followed Weaver up a flight of stairssituated behind a portcullis beside the stables. Smiling amusedly at the sight, the priest stopped before a closed wooden door at the top of the stairs. ¡°Sleepy, love?¡± Placing a palm flush onto a squarish metal plate bolted chest-high to the thick wooden door, Weaver flared her mana through it. ¡°A little, yes.¡± Nathaniel rubbed at his eyes while the door unlocked. Was that a magical lock of some kind? This place is cool! Pulling the dark-haired boy into a one-armed hug as they walked through the door, Weaver made a sympathetic noise. ¡°Just a little more till everything is done, okay? I need to get you to register at the office before we go anywhere, followed by a check-up at the medical wing. It wouldn¡¯t drag too long, hopefully. Dinner bell should be ringing in a bit, I think.¡± Nathaniel let his gaze wonder as he absent-mindedly nodded his head. The interiors of the castle was a lot more well-lit than he expected. Braziers littered the corridors regularly couple of paces for light and warmth while lamps were installed either on the walls or the handrails of staircases where there wasn¡¯t enough floor space. Giving out a warm, yellow light, the lamps were bright but not overly so, keeping from blinding the boy even as he peered at them curiously. ¡°Are these magical lamps? Is that why they don¡¯t flicker?¡± Nathaniel poked a few times at the glass of one with his finger, the lamp feeling surprisingly sturdy instead of hollow. The priest reached for his hand before pulling him along, an exasperated smile on her face. Nodding her head at the various people passing them by, she weaved her arm around his, tugging softly but firmly each time Nathaniel¡¯s curiosity got the better of him. ¡°Yes, the lamps are lit by a small piece of a magical crystal that glows whenever its dark. The thick glass diffuses the brightness of the crystals by a little bit, and it protects them from the itchy fingers of young boys as well.¡± Moment away from touching another lamp, Nathaniel withdrew his other hand abruptly. Grinning sheepishly, he pointedly stuffed his hand into a pocket of his trousers. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, you¡¯ll see them up close soon enough. All cadets do chores like replacing the crystals when the lamps get dimmer; it helps cut down the amount of tasks the castle staff has to do. It is also effective punishment detail for misbehaving cadets.¡± Snorting, Weaver led him into a hall. ¡°Saintly, Robin and Dice practically took over lamp duty when we were still cadets.¡± A huge, wide-open space, the hall was lengthy and rectangular. With another set of doors mirroring the grand entrance which they came in from, four massive windows were built into the long wall on his left, stretching so huge that Nathaniel was sure a dragon can fly through without much trouble. That, the boy thought, might have been the whole point. Opposite the windows, three long tables were arranged into the border of a half-hexagon without the longest side, their sides cut and angled in such a way that they formed the shape seamlessly. Multiple high-backed wooden chairs were tucked in from the outside of the half-hexagon, facing the windows with the remaining wall standing plain and unadorned behind them. Much like the corridors of the rest of the castle, multiple braziers lit up the hall with warm flickering light while desk lamps stood aloof on the tables, each one marking the position of a chair.The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. It was also empty, save for a lone woman lounging in a chair with her feet propped up on the edge of a table. An elaborate crossbow, impressive in both size and design, was left leaning within easy reach against the wall behind her. ¡°Sappy!¡± Weaver let go of Nathaniel¡¯s arm, bounding forward. Standing just a breath shorter than the priest, Sappy was a gentle-looking middle-aged woman willowy in figure. Slightly greying at the temples, her long auburn hair was styled in a thick braid, showing off slight crows feet at the corner of her eyes. With deep laugh lines on her face, Sappy looked like the very definition of a radiant mother. The older woman laughed as she caught the priest into a hug, picking her up and twirling her around once. Releasing her, she held Weaver at arm¡¯s length, looking at her from head to toe. ¡°Goodness, girl, you¡¯ve lost weight!¡± Sappy pinched Weaver on the cheek gently, her expression mock-stern. ¡°Have your boys been stealing your food again? Do you want me to have a word with them later?¡± Giggling, Weaver shook her head. ¡°No, Sappy, the boys were very well-behaved this few months. Well, maybe except Saintly, but you know how he is. It¡¯s just that I¡¯m wearing full leather under my robes instead of half-and-half this time.¡± Turning towards Nathaniel, Weaver gestured for the boy to come forward. ¡°Nathaniel, I¡¯ll like to meet Sappy. Sappy here is one of the Company¡¯s general staff and is the head of the administration department. She was also part of the team that brought me here, much like how Team Golf and I brought you.¡± Smiling softly, she put an arm around Nathaniel¡¯s shoulders. ¡°Sappy, this is Nathaniel. The boys and I found him at the imperial orphanage at Starrwyn a day or two ago.¡± Eyes crinkling, Sappy smiled at Nathaniel. ¡°A pleasure to meet you, lad.¡± Frowning abruptly, she peered closer at the boy¡¯s face, causing him to nearly flinch in surprise. ¡°You¡¯ve been mage-touched, and recently too.¡± Sappy turned to Weaver. ¡°Was it you, girl?¡± Shrugging, Weaver nodded. ¡°He got caught up in a scrap before we met him at the orphanage. Traded the other boy two black eyes and a broken nose for a split lip and was so proud of it too. I think the boys have already corrupted him.¡± Sappy snorted. Walking back towards the chair she was previously in, the older woman rummaged through a pile of folders before letting out a soft sound of triumph, pulling out a folder. Opening it, she took a sheet of paper out before taking a seat, dipping a pen into an inkpot. ¡°Well, come over here then, Nathaniel. Can¡¯t register you if you don¡¯t sign the contract.¡± Puzzled, Nathaniel tilted his head to look at Weaver. ¡°Contract?¡± The priest parked herself on the edge of the table, sitting in deep enough for her feet to dangle. ¡°Mmhmm, a contract. It¡¯s basically to show that the Company has given you an offer to take you in and train you. Signing it means you accepted the offer willingly and agree to abide by the rules and conditions of the Company.¡± ¡°Can you tell me a little more about the rules and conditions?¡± Nathaniel asked, hesitant. It wasn¡¯t like he wasn¡¯t going to sign it, given that he was already here, but it was always good to know. ¡°Hmm¡­¡± Eyeing the boy in approval, Sappy turned the contract to face him. ¡°Think of it like¡­ an apprenticeship, if you will. You are already a legal ward of the Company, which, as promised, means that we will feed and clothe you while providing you a home, but that¡¯s it, really. You¡¯re a Black now, but not a member of the Company. Upon signing this contract, you will then be part of our academic program, in which we will educate, train, and provide you with all the equipment and facilities you might need.¡± The older woman then pointed to a particular paragraph. ¡°In return, you will agree to be bonded to the Company for at least four years after you successfully graduate into a journeyman, which is the stage after cadetship. Also, the Company reserves the right to take the lion¡¯s share of the mission fee, with a suitable percentage returning to you as a bonus for the successful completion of a mission. The bonus varies according to your rank within the unit. The higher it is, the more you get as a bonus.¡± ¡°Ah,¡± said Nathaniel, face wary. So that¡¯s the catch. Matron Abby was right, there¡¯s no such thing as a free lunch. Catching his expression, Sappy chuckled. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, boy, the Company¡¯s not out to gouge you. Think of it as providing for the family. Payment for amenities, animal feed, meals, armour and weapons¡­ it takes a lot of gold to keep an outfit like this running. In addition of the bonus, the Company will also pay you a very generous salary every month, which is also dependant on your rank.¡± Sappy scratched her nose with the back of her pen. ¡°Did you understand everything I just said, Nathaniel? Tell me if you need me to repeat anything.¡± I¡­ think I¡¯ve gotten all of that. Do I sign here?¡± Nathaniel asked, pointing at the bottom of the page. Nodding, Sappy passed the pen to him butt-first. ¡°Remember to sign your last name as well, boy.¡± Grinning, the dark-haired boy scrawled his name in full on to the bottom of the page. ¡°So, what now?¡± ¡°Now, off you go to the medical wing. If you hurry, you might be able to complete your medical examination and get settled in before the dinner bell rings.¡± Tidying her desk, Sappy paused long enough to wink. ¡°Welcome to the Company proper, Nathaniel.¡±
¡°Why can¡¯t you do it? I mean, you¡¯ve healed me, right? Don¡¯t you already know how healthy I am?¡± Nathaniel asked as Weaver and him made their way to the medical wing of the castle. Shaking her head, Weaver explained. ¡°It¡¯s not the same, love. I¡¯m only a priest, not yet a doctor. While learning how to heal requires some medical knowledge, being a doctor is much more than that. Healing is like a quick, convenient tool, but it can¡¯t replace the real thing.¡± Pausing slightly as she thought about it, the priest flared her mana into a hand, looking as wisps of mana shimmered between her fingers. ¡°In fact, it¡¯s kind of like cheating, actually. All I do is to channel mana and cast a miracle.¡± As she spoke, the blue shimmer on her hands condensed into a single point at the tip of her index finger, glowing a green so bright that it almost hurt to look at it directly. ¡°The miracle then converts the mana I channel into healing magic. At the easiest stage, I don¡¯t really need to know how the body works to fix it, because I need to do is to just boost a person¡¯s ability to heal itself. However, knowing how the body works is essential in higher levels of healing. Miracles can only heal physical wounds and combat dark magic, so it¡¯s actually more limited than you think. A healer can do a lot, but healers that are proper doctors can do even more.¡± ¡°And we¡¯re here, love.¡± Weaver stopped before a pair of double doors and knocked in an odd cadence. While exactly the same in design as every other set in the castle, the doors to the medical wing seemed to be fashioned entirely out of a dark metal, reflecting the surrounding braziers with a dull sheen. Though oddly muffled, the knocks had apparently alerted someone inside as there was soon a shout from behind the door. ¡°Coming! Be there in a jiffy!¡± Nathaniel glanced questioningly at Weaver, who only winked at him with a finger on her lip and knocked again with same cadence as before. Almost immediately after, one side of the doors swung open, creaking to reveal a man babbling excitedly with his hands held wide. ¡°Oh sweetheart, I¡¯ve been aching to see you the entire¡ª Shit. You¡¯re not Peggy.¡± ¡°Evening, doctor,¡± Weaver grinned. ¡°We¡¯re here for your last appointment before dinner bell rings.¡± Sinking to his knees with a drawn-out groan, the doctor pretended to weep dramatically, shaking his fist at the ceiling. ¡°Curse you, Murphy!¡± he cried. ¡°Curse you and your stupid relevant law!¡± Helping him up, Weaver snickered. ¡°So its sweetheart now, sir? Not calling Miss Peggy by her name anymore?¡± ¡°Hush, you. Now, who¡¯s this here? Your secret, illegitimate son with Oy?¡± The man eyed Nathaniel speculatively, stroking his chin as the boy blinked. ¡°I knew he was sweet on you, Weaver, but I didn¡¯t think you two would move that quickly. For shame,young lady. I thought I always told all my students to use protection¡ª Ow!¡± Flushing, Weaver punched him in the arm again, angling her fist slightly this time so she could dig in with the first two knuckles. "OW!" ¡°For the last time, Poker, Oy and I are just friends! Stop making people think that we¡¯re involved, idiot mentor!¡± Wincing, Poker rubbed at his arm. ¡°Methinks the lady does deny too much. In fact¡ª Nevermind. Now, what can I do for you, young man?¡± Changing the subject hastily as Weaver held up a threatening fist, the doctor stepped aside, letting them into the medical wing proper. ¡°Evening, sir. My name¡¯s Nathaniel and I¡¯m here for a¡­ medical exam?¡± Nathaniel looked hesitant at Weaver, who nodded encouragingly at him. Nodding his head, the doctor then walked over to a chair, patting the top of the backrest with a hand before wandering off deeper into the medical wing. ¡°Alright then, kid, take a seat and hold on for a moment. I need to grab some papers¡­¡±
Nathaniel huffed, pulling on the straps of the knapsack he was carrying. While built wide enough to not cut into his shoulders, the sheer amount of gear he was humping in his bag was starting to wear him down. ¡°Ugh, how many sets did you say the quartermaster¡¯s office would issue again? Because I¡¯m pretty sure they gave me almost double the amount.¡± ¡°Eight sets, love,¡± Weaver¡¯s amused voice floated down to him from the top of the flight of stairs they were currently climbing. ¡°You did say you didn¡¯t want any help.¡± Wiping away at a bead of perspiration from his brows, the boy stuck out his bottom lip to pout at the priest. Once Poker was done with him at the medical wing, Weaver had brought him to the Company¡¯s supply office to collect his ¡®kit¡¯, as it was called. Consisting of multiple sets of clothes, two pairs of boots and other sundries, he was a little surprised when what looked like a slightly puffy padded jacket was added to the pile. The quartermaster¡¯s assistant, who was a girl about the same age as him, had explained that it was called an arming jacket, and that it was meant to be worn as either light armour or under plate. Apparently it also doubled as a winter jacket as well, or at least according to Weaver. Nathaniel paused to buck the knapsack higher up his back. ¡°Well, the girl gave me fourteen sets!¡± ¡°Come on, you,¡± Weaver laughed. ¡°It¡¯s not that heavy, you big baby. You¡¯ll be carrying more during training, and maybe even double of that if you choose to wear plate like the knights. Just take it as¡­ hmmm, a little acclimatization before the academy starts, okay?¡± Pointing to yet another flight of stairs leading upwards into the castle as Nathaniel finally reached the landing she was on, Weaver pointed to yet another flight of steps that lead upwards higher into the castle. ¡°This is where we part, love. Up that way are the cadet quarters. I¡¯ve got to meet the rest of my team at the missions desk for a debrief and then head down for dinner. I¡¯ll see you later, okay?¡± Waving goodbye as she left, Nathaniel looked up at the steps he has yet to climb before sighing. You know, this seems more like that military college Matron Abby once told me about than a fearsome mercenary company. Shrugging his shoulders, the boy started climbing the stairs. Well, onwards to glory, eh?